Best Materialized Poems
LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Hello there, sweet Lady Jane,
So, it is three weeks before you turn seventy,
do you think you can honestly tell you found
your peace of mind, contentment, happiness?
Or are you still searching for answers to the
things you never understand and wondering
the what ifs, when you damn know there would
be no answers, no explanations, no clarifications.
Your children are giving you a party and all your
grandchildren will be there to celebrate you.
Do they make you proud for what they become?
Or do you still think you did not spend enough time
with them when you cannot turn back time or do
you still worry and wish something better for them?
All your siblings with their spouses, children and
grandchildren will join your family in celebrating
you reaching a major milestone, are you excited?
Or do you still feel like an outsider for your
mother, their mother treated you differently.
I know your life did not turn to be what you wanted,
as your life journey put you through many adversities
including sorrow and pain that you turned out to be
what you are meant to be, a strong willed woman.
You learned to let go the shadows that haunted you
and you accepted and embraced what life threw at you
becoming appreciative and thankful with your blessings.
In the past, you were asked many times what your plans
were for the next five years? ten years? for the future?
You had so many for you couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Now, you just whisper let it be, the words of wisdom.
Your dreams never materialized; but they never left you.
So at this time in your life you think you are never too old
to dream or create new ones by reinventing yourself.
You dare to live your life at its fullest and take a chance
to create your own happiness for it is a decision, a choice.
So, my sweet Lady Jane, it is nice to see you not worrying
about the future; but dancing and rocking to rock and roll
music, living like Ruby Tuesday, you come and go and
change every new day and you just imagine, living for today.
Ahhhh……..
11/22/21 Your Favorite Poem of 2021 Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
9/18/21 Written and Submitted
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry
Silent One
NOTE: My pen name is Sweet Lady Jane
from the Rolling Stone's Lady Jane
It took time for the soldier to realize,
that no one was truly self-sufficient,
after the raids and the bombings, hunger materialized,
and life seemed insufficient,
the villagers took refuge in a form of weakness,
as they watched their government fail,
and their lives sail,
unable to ask for any kind of help or guidance,
because of their own blood trail,
left by strangers in their land,
as most of these bystanders
become prisoners to a foreign command,
these thoughts flashed through the soldiers head,
as he walked around the countless dead,
he fought so many wars and won,
and he knew when another war starts,
they’ll take his son,
he gazed at the sleeping form of an old woman,
wrapped in a filthy sheet,
as she rocked nervously on the side of the street,
and small children huddled together,
and it appeared they haven’t had a bite to eat,
they simply watched and waited,
and for the most part,
that’s what the soldier hated,
these sights tugged at his heart,
but he was just following the chains of command,
there were whispered exchanges,
but he knew God would somehow understand.
hope is a dream
a wonderful thing
like a kite it takes flight
and flies
as high as our string will let it fly
in the wind it twist and dives
but hold on to the string
by my faith i will
hope is a dream
a beautiful thing
like an egg lain to hatch
we wait and wait
and keep it warm
waiting for it to crack
hope is a dream
an expressive thing
a seed we dared to plant
we water and feed
and attend it's needs
till something from the dirt turns green
hope is a dream
a colorful thing
a vision to be realized
we hold to our hopes
and act with our votes
to see our dreams materialized
hope is a dream
a mysterious thing
that most men say don't matter
but given time to pray about
the immaterial becomes matter
hope is a dream
a magical thing
with out it we may as well die
but beyond the clouds
and things that we see with our eyes
is the promise of a great surprise
Reality is made
Dreams are made up
Dreaming could be a reality
And reality is a dream materialized
But a dream isn’t reality
And reality is no longer a dream
So be free to dream of a reality
But don’t live reality in a dream
The rain falls faster, faster now,
Plummeting arid plains below,
Eroding bits of blackened soil,
Washing away decayed petals.
One by one, they slip out of existence,
Walking out rusted doors.
I stand under the cold, crisp water,
Letting it soak through layers of frayed fabric,
Seeping into skin that's leathered with age.
Scents of petrichor shift through brisk bursts of wind,
Trapped within the mess of my mind for far too long now.
The resounding smells flood my senses
With bygone memories,
Snapping between past misunderstandings
That turned into reverberations of us,
And fears of a future
That slipped through calloused fingers.
Looking down at what materialized in my wailing hands,
I dig the frigid steel deep into my chest,
Cutting beneath layers of flesh and sinew,
Past a cracking ribcage,
To expose a beating heart, screaming in agony.
I slice it from its hollow home,
Position it on a tarnished platter,
Place it as an offering at your sacred feet,
Interminably holding me in your gnarled heart forthwith.
The electronics clambered, numbered incessantly the pixels
Evermore they quoted as they looked sheepishly beyond the waving kelp
But how many fonts hold fast to the batholiths where benthic crawlers lurk?
All sounds resonate truly never resting they attest to organisms organized
Materialized from matter without flatter, all is jargon even tarragon
So have you planned usurping what is beyond the seamless light?
Fishing for extinct species yet landing luggage makes one uneasy
But oh so few have caught the ride switched on by myriad microchips
Looking into the lightened halogen afforded space upon the brazen hillside strata
It is all an electric race for peace with resistors, electrons racing past hazards
Imagination pictured impossibilities precisely placed to soothe the softened goals
Remotely fusiform he held in his own untrained hand although he dipped at times
Mechanisms, anachronisms and microcosms of life go on to divide or multiply
They form a landing, certain coiled spinning prisms an animate defense of green
Can a pixel bring a timely recompense or electrons reap a harvest?
Often I had crossed her path. She had been on my mind; a natural beauty some might say. These thoughts of her came and went. Did she think of me, and if so, what was the meaning of this transcendence? With no voice to inspire me, all inner direction was lost. Restless visions materialized. My meditation grew weak. Unfinished poems I had thought had promise were discarded and I retreated. I breathed deeply, and in doing so, I tried to conjure up something to jot down, but she was too evasive to stir creative juices. Embattled for words, I had nothing to say. It was the height of frustration; an abrupt halt to what had just begun. I walked about lost in a fog of notions.
Searching for something, what was it I sought? I remembered a postcard from long ago, a picture of a beautiful visage painted on a bridge made of stone. I had been stricken. A muse, who was she? A muse is a gift, is it not? Why was it that I could not make her my very own? Feminine, glowing, naked for all to see, I was sure she wouldn’t have minded helping me continue my novel’s journey. I waited under the pass and listened to the silence, a hollow echoing resonated and took on a foreboding and haunting mood. I left the tunnel in a scurried urgency.
A lady I saw once on a granite arch came to me in a dream one night. An oak tree was present, sprouting from it were branches twisted and gnarled. An obscure figure appeared. Her body was painted pink, her hair raven. There she was seated, in between her legs the genus specie; what a presentation. I saw myself trekking towards her, what would I find? Why she beckoned me, I had no explanation. Then she cried, whispering something softly in my mind. She told me all her long-held secrets, grim and bright. A gift for you, she mused—you will recognize me in time. Now I patiently sit at my typewriter and write.
I wandered the vastness of the universe
Just to meet you here
I considered many life times to glimpse
Your adorable essence
I explored the magical land of Atlantis
Even the technological Lemuria
I lived a couple of thousands of years in Sumeria
And learned to spoke magical words
I lived with the hundreds of lambs in Syria
To learn how to live with them in the barren land
I was in Mongolia to learn how to cook food
And created my own menu
I was with the Emperor and Empress of Japan
To be one of their counsels
I was once a daughter of a peasant in Italy
Learned to live with a single meal a day
I learned to fly an airplane in France
And leave my profession for marriage
I craved to wrote songs in Canada
But still longed for someone I knew
I was with you in the battle ground of ancient Egypt
I learned how to kill and to be killed then
I tried to discover more about myself
Lived inside a cave of mountainous Indonesia
I entered the great temple of India
To learn how to be the master of my surroundings
But died when a mysterious epidemic spread
I created more thoughts and realized inside a cell in Chile
And killed myself for an escape to my wrong ordeals
I existed again to work on my rippled karma
I visited the temples of Tibet to find peace
I discovered how to heal myself
And every person I tormented
I roamed around the great City of Brazil
But to no avail I never saw someone like you
I remembered why I am here then
I still chased you in further ground of Incas
But nothing happened
You still left me for another person
I continued to soar within this land
And was killed while counting miles across the sea of England
I explored the lessons of to be abandoned
As I always waited for this love
I was catapulted again in the battle fields of the Philippines
Where I was killed in an ambush with my three comrades
Yet my desire never materialized
I returned here being wary you was out of life again
I decided to go back to the golden planet
But escaped before the capsule like craft flown
While have had a thought in mind
That I am expected you to came
And now finally we bumped each other again
This will be the last life I shall chose to see you
Since I planned long before this moment
I will be home where I am from
And be one with my sparks.
I feel for gentle hearts in this loud world,
Ever suspect, dismissed and derided,
For long has been the shy a songless bird,
That Darwin dismissed as ‘odd state of head’,
Jane Austin gave shyness a broader scope,
Calling it a ‘moral, mental disease’,
And Freud, his fame fending for men no rope,
With sub-conscious cladding, a twist of his
That smelt of ‘displaced love of self-scored goals’,
A simple disposition framed as law,
Oh poking fun and scoring birdie holes,
In matters straight, cobwebs of gauze he saw,
And sensitive violets were on blame,
Poor things, shrunk with self-deprecating shame.
Violets shrunk with disparaging shame,
And shyness drawn from society’s unease,
Scarce unto standard mould can ever squeeze,
O get condemned— a jade that could be gem.
Though sensitive nigh to a gawking gaze,
Here am I basking still in benign bliss—
A shy soul, they say, more inventive is,
And tolerant the more to worldly ways
That mistake plane shyness as being cold,
Aloof, and worse still, somewhat arrogant,
And value those that be loud, neddless bold,
I’m happy now that they were ignorant.
Let critics bask under ill-informed bliss,
I marvel, how creative this bird is.
Creative, this touch-me-not kind of bird,
Or call it a flower called violet,
An introvert of an easy mind-set,
One blessed with fecund skills, a bit absurd—
Skills lacked by too talkatively inclined,
While some greats confess to ‘fainting with fears’
Ere giving speech to some so-called speakers,
Some loners lack the skills called social kind.
I know, shyness has no one ever hurt,
But self that feels cosy under own skin.
Let shyness stay forever verdant green,
Let it never make me an extrovert,
That I live in my own solitude proud,
Innovative, gentle in world so loud.
_________________________________
Two recent books set my thinking bird brooding over bashfulness: The Man who mistook his Wife for a Hat, by Oliver Sacks; and Shrinking Violets: The Secret Life of Shyness, by Joe Moran. These books advocate that the shy should get a better deal, for they tend to be more creative. Here is the why: musing over, these three sonnets (crown of…) materialized that made me feel a bit elated.
Crown of Sonnets | 01.03.2017 |
Pausing to breathe before falling
into patterns of pain.
Synapses fire with memories
materialized from tissue.
Why pain?
Where IS sorrow in the grey matter
and why does it matter
this pattern to relive pain?
Look at it and let it be
a groove in the layer that folds
under the place that moves a pen.
Stay away from the when of then,
be in the now of a sunny day.
Don't go that old yesterday way.
Yet here in this now it appears.
Right brain, left brain, brain left to cry
and sob within. Who cries? Who sighs?
Laughter swells up to cover
while pain does hover
like a checkerboard
waiting to be crowned.
I waited... I surmised
I know I agonized
Of course... I never realized
Springtime was disguised
I pondered... I personalized
I know I criticized
Of course... I never recognized
Spring had improvised
I questioned... I vocalized
I know I dramatized
Of course... I verbalized
Spring had not arrived
I charted... I analyzed
I know I hypothesized
Of course... I never was more surprised
A third Nor'easter materialized
I remember... I fantasized
I know I rationalized
Of course... I never romanticized
That spring would be winterized
April 4, 2018
For Michael Vacek's Spring Monorhyme Contest
The meadow was so sweet
Our stile where we sat our retreat
When her longing lips met those so willing of mine.
Yet a cloud of unconsciousness
Overcame reality,
The darkness of the day revealed
Inside one’s head a busy mind,
Then a soft voice from a distance
Echo’s throughout the confusion.
A face appears I thought I recognized
Saw a little girl her hair white as snow
Yet in a fragment of time she was gone,
Through the haze materialized
An Angel in a gleam of light so bright
A touch upon my face a gift so powerful,
Tender love in its purist etiquette
Ran through my entire body,
To awaken me to reality
Another chance this celestial gave to me
If only to say one last time. Goodbye!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
In the ancestral call of righteousness
They failed the almighty creator
There in the Forbidden Garden of Eden
Who could tell where the sinful garden is now?
That smal pretty hut where sin began in deceitful manner
Then to the days of brave Noah
And the Sodom and Gomorrah set in immorally like dogs
Which kind world we are, where man is so unkind to mankind?
Doors are shut in mysterious manner then broken aftermath
Women travail in pain whilst men labour
Children are left naked swinging in pain
The footless human snake materialized all this crime
I watched as it hissed and moved about
The ancient curse to mankind in unkindly tongue caused it
Men are so unkind to mankind yet satisfied
So unkind to the universe, our little china doll
Treating her against the will of the creator
The creator wanted us to treat the universe
LIke a fragile creature he had created it to be
But sound of war sounds nearer in the image of Lucifer
Tears streaming down from the eyes of men like river flow
Man unkind to mankind, things sway and fall apart
Rolling, turning like the sun round the earth
We catch new birds each day tempted by their hips
Babies now know the distance of the journey at back
Corruption dwell and feast bread with men, blood shed
Forget not the world wars, forget not homosexuality
Remember masturbation, remember child abuse, same sex marriage
The righteous tattoos on human bodies
The death of Abel in the bleeding ground
Remember, remember, the ransom of the only son
Of what profit is wickedness anyway when sand we return?
Beautiful image of the deceiver paying tribute to mankind
Why man is unkind to mankind?
I smile not here as evil generate in our world
When would mankind problems be solved?
Is it after the messiah comes?
Pretty look betray pretty smiles
Evil has overshadowed righteousness and
Man unkind to mankind
One day I decided to go and sit in the park.
I sought fresh inspiration and a new muse!
My decision was the perfect panacea done on a lark.
In no way would my spirit this time me refuse!
I sought fresh inspiration and a new muse.
Out of nowhere a cynosure materialized!
In no way would my spirit this time me refuse.
My heart pounded, I held my breath, I was mesmerized!
Out of nowhere a cynosure materialized!
An angelic ingenue was walking in my view!
My heart pounded, I held my breath, I was mesmerized!
This Woman's presence stopped all of time! This is true!
An angelic ingenue was walking in my view!
Both subtle and profound glamour did she possess.
This Woman's presence stopped all of time! This is true!
Dumbfounded and speechless was I! This I do profess!
Both subtle and profound glamour did she possess.
She had a feline lissome movement in her stride!
Dumbfounded and speechless was I! This I do profess!
Bewilderment and inspiration within did collide!
She had a feline lissome movement in her stride.
A demure aura emanated as she smiled!
Bewilderment and inspiration within did collide.
My composure I tamed for this vision drove me wild!
A demure aura emanated as she smiled.
The most mellifluous "Hello!" exited her lovely mouth!
My composure I tamed for this vision drove me wild!
I floated north and simultaneously, I crashed south!
The most mellifluous "Hello!" exited her lovely mouth.
I was frozen in this most ineffable of human states!
I floated north and simultaneously, I crashed south!
Her chatoyant orbs for eyes launched me right into space!
I was frozen in this most ineffable of human states.
What would it take to keep this moment sempiternal?
Her chatoyant orbs for eyes launched me right into space.
I will never be the same outwardly nor internal!
What would it take to keep this moment sempiternal?
My decision was the perfect panacea done on a lark!
I will never be the same outwardly nor internal.
One day I decided to go and sit in the park!
WTA-IV 5/12/2016
Pantoum Form
*Written in response to Silent One's poem "Unforgettable"
with a challenge request to use the 10 following words-
Chatoyant, Cynosure, Demure, Glamour, Ineffable Ingenue,
Lissome, Mellifluous, Panacea and Sempiternal!
.
For some anomalous raison d’être
the lively in hern watch
was resolute
thus
mine did ensue
And each from I
mine lips
that was touch
Though I do know
it materialized in hern vista
‘As the kiss’
I kissed her neverhernless
in lexical
verse
to mine grave I say
to mine grave
"touch"